


Quarantine

by DaisyErina



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Oikawa is a flirt, Quarantine, Reader Insert, chat pals, followers to friends, male reader - Freeform, mutual followers, reader is a gay disaster, video chatting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23438467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyErina/pseuds/DaisyErina
Summary: On the other end of the call sat the most beautiful brunet you’d ever seen, his hair soft-looking and slightly curled at the ends. His chocolate brown eyes were bright and sparkling with interest, but you didn’t know at what the interest was directed. His fair skin was smooth, and you were overwhelmed with the desire to caress his cheek, even though you’d never spoken before.~He shrugged. “You’re cute. You’re funny. I thought you’d be nice to talk to.”Cute. Funny. Forgetting how to breathe.~Quarantined to your house due to the plague developing outside, there's little to do to keep your sanity. You take to social media, finally reaching out to your followers and hold proper conversations with them. One mutual follower requests a video chat, and after the first one, you become addicted to seeing his perfect face and hearing his perfect voice. Will the quarantine ever end? Will you get to meet this beautiful man when you're finally allowed outside again?
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	1. Week One

**Quarantine**  
A/N: Inspired by a sound from Tiktok. Took some time to pick a character because, as much as I love you all, you didn’t give me wonderful suggestions. Binging _Haikyuu_ with my fiancé led to inspiration so here you are.

Quarantine.  
It was a frightening word. It was heavy, lording itself over humanity’s head, threatening humankind into submission.  
It left you stuck at home, entertaining yourself to the best of your abilities. You didn’t have a large family, so your house was generally quiet, and it wasn’t like you could invite friends over. The internet company had suspended your bill, giving you free access without spending excess money, so you spend most of your time glued to your laptop. Your interests bounced between Instagram, Facebook, and Tumblr, and when your mutual followers were unavailable for chatting, you took to playing games or writing stories. 

It was late morning one Saturday, and you were sat at your desk in front of your laptop, mug of tea in hand. Beside your laptop was a plate of scones, perfect for nibbling while you waited for someone to have time for you.  
A video chat popped up in your Instagram, and you raised a brow. It was a username you recognized from your news feed, but it wasn’t someone you regularly spoke to.  
_Kittykawa is video calling you._  
Nibbling your lip curiously, you answered the call, nearly falling out of your chair at the face that met your gaze. On the other end of the call sat the most beautiful brunet you’d ever seen, his hair soft-looking and slightly curled at the ends. His chocolate brown eyes were bright and sparkling with interest, but you didn’t know at what the interest was directed. His fair skin was smooth, and you were overwhelmed with the desire to caress his cheek, even though you’d never spoken before.  
“Uh… hey?” you greeted lamely, uncertain as to why this beautiful angel called you in the first place.  
“Hey,” he grinned, and hell, his smile was perfect because of course it was.  
“Not that I mind, but,” you began, hesitating as you struggled to word your confusion in a way that wouldn’t offend him, “why the video call? Have we spoken before and I’m have an amnesia episode?”  
He chuckled, and that sound did mushy, tingly things to your inside. “No, we haven’t spoken. I’ve commented on some of your posts, you’ve commented on some of mine.”  
That much you remembered, but somehow you didn’t remember the photos on his profile being quite this handsome.  
“Did my comments intrigue you?” you questioned before you could stop yourself.  
He shrugged. “You’re cute. You’re funny. I thought you’d be nice to talk to.”  
Cute. Funny. Forgetting how to breathe.  
“Thanks, I think,” was your lame reply, and you mentally slapped yourself. “So, uh… How are you doing? With the quarantine and all?”  
The beautiful angel chuckled again, and you were pretty sure that sound would be the last thing you heard before you succumbed to the sweet call of death. “It sucks, honestly. I hate not being able to even go in my yard. I’m an outdoorsy kind of guy, you know?”  
You found yourself nodding, even though you absolutely did not know, because you very much enjoyed being indoors. You went outside when you had to, for school or grocery shopping or hanging out with the few friends you’d made, but you weren’t athletic or outgoing.  
“Right,” you agreed, desperate to keep the conversation going and keep the brunet online. “What did you do for fun? Before all this shit happened, I mean.”  
“I’m on the volleyball team,” he claimed proudly, and damn, did that mental image go straight to the front of your sweatpants.  
“O-oh?” you managed shakily, unable to stop your brain from imagining his fair skin glistening with sweat, his lanky frame snuggly wrapped in a jersey and shorts. The angle of his webcam only offered you a chest-up view, but it was enough for daydreaming.  
He nodded enthusiastically, either unaware or unbothered by the drool pooling at the corner of your mouth. “I’m the captain of our team, and also the setter.”  
“That sounds awesome!” you contributed. You had no idea what a setter was, but being captain sounded important. You’d watched your own school play volleyball once or twice, since you had friends in the club, but you didn’t learn much about the game, having only gone as moral support. “What school do you play for?”  
There was a pause, and you mentally slapped yourself again. How could you be so forward? You’d never spoken to this hottie before, there’s no way he would-  
“Aoba Johsai,” he grinned, and suddenly everything clicked. The swoop of his hair and the determination in his eyes had been familiar from the second you answered the call, but you’d assumed it was just from stalking his profile.  
“Something wrong?” he questioned, and you realized that you’d been quiet for too long.  
You shook your head. “N-no, I’m good. Sorry, I just recognized that name. My school, the volleyball club has some sort of beef with yours, I guess?”  
That piqued his interest. He leaned forward, thin brows quirked as he tilted his head adorably. “What school do you go to, then?”  
“Karasuno,” you murmured, and his lips split into a grin.  
“Ahh, the Karasuno volleyball club,” he clarified. “Yeah, I know them well. Some of my teammates went to middle school with their setter, Kageyama.”  
You nodded softly. “I know him, kind of. I’ve watched them play a few times but I don’t know very much about volleyball.”  
“You should come to a game sometime,” he winked. He _fucking_ winked. “I bet a cutie like you watching me play would bring me good luck.”  
Your cheeks _had_ to be on fire this time. You fumbled for a response, tripping over your own tongue repeatedly while he simply grinned at you.  
“Y-yeah,” you nodded. “After this whole quarantine thing is over… I’d love to watch you play.”  
Where did that confidence come from??  
“I could even give you a private show, if you want,” he offered. “Teach you a few moves.”  
You absolutely did _not_ swoon, you swore you didn’t, but the chuckle rumbling in Hot Volleyball Guy’s throat proved otherwise.  
Someone shouted in the background, and he called back to them before looking back at you. “I should go. It’s lunch time. Can I call you tomorrow?”  
“I’d like that,” you managed. Regular calls with this guy sounded like an amazing idea. Realizing that maybe you shouldn’t refer to him in your head as Hot Volleyball Guy, you struggled to catch his attention before he ended the call.  
“Wait! You never told me your name!”  
He smiled innocently like he hadn’t spend the last hour melting your insides. “Toru Oikawa. What’s yours?”  
You gave it, and he repeated it, and you pondered which corner of the yard they would dig your grave in when you accidentally suffocated yourself.  
“Talk to you later,” he promised, offering you a wave before the call went dead. You stared at the end-of-call screen, eyes wide and unwavering, before exhaling a loud yelp and falling back, your chair crashing to the floor.


	2. Week Two

It had been a week since the video chat, despite his request to call you the following day. You’d exchanged a few messages with Oikawa since then, but there hadn’t been another call. The logical section of your brain figured that he had his own things going on – other friends to talk to (he was on the volleyball team, after all), family to spend time with, personal activities to which you weren’t (yet) privy.   
But the emotional side of your brain, the part that made you feel mushy and wobbly and tingly every time the brunet uploaded a smiling selfie, filled your conscious mind with thoughts of not being good enough for Oikawa’s time. He’d called you because he thought you were cute and funny – what if he decided that you weren’t? What if it was just something he needed to get out of his system? What if-  
Your laptop chimed with an Instagram notification. Glancing at the screen, which was sitting open on your desk and had drifted to a colorful screensaver due to your inactivity, your heart nearly leapt out of your chest at the new display.  
_Kittykawa is video calling you._  
Who-kawa is _what?!_  
Oikawa was calling? You were irrationally doubting yourself for no valid reason? He wasn’t already sick of your budding friendship?  
Inhaling deeply to steel your nerves, you accepted the call, stifling the urge to squeal as the brunet’s sweetly smiling face came into view.  
“Hey,” he greeted, and had his voice gotten even more angelic?  
“Hey,” you returned with a half-hearted wave. Your heart pounded against your ribcage. Did he really want to talk to you? Was he just bored?   
“I’m sorry it’s been so long,” he chuckled, lifting a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. You absolutely weren’t trying to watch his muscles flex through his t-shirt.  
“It’s no problem,” you lied, smiling forgivingly. “I figured you were busy.”  
“You can say that again,” he sighed. “My teammates have been blowing up my notifications; I’ve barely had time to sort them all out. They’ve become rather attention-hungry during this quarantine.”  
You offered him a nod, though you didn’t share his struggles. The few friends you had were perfectly capable of keeping themselves busy, only contacting you when you were the only one online.   
“That sounds nice,” you commented softly. “Staying busy. It’s all we can really do nowadays.”  
He nodded enthusiastically, and you found yourself thinking that one day you’d love to be the one keeping him busy.  
“What have you been up to while I’ve been away?” he inquired, his lips splitting into a sly grin as one eye dropped into a wink. “Didn’t miss me too much, I hope.”  
A furious blush claimed your cheeks, but if Oikawa noticed it, he kept it to himself. “O-oh, nothing much,” you countered. “Baking, mostly. My mom decided to use the quarantine as an excuse to test out new recipes, so I’ve been helping out.”  
Suddenly feeling the requirement of props, you reached for the plate of milk bread that sat patiently beside your laptop. You grasped a slice between your fingers and lifted it to your lips, nibbling on it absent-mindedly.  
His russet orbs widened in recognition, and was that a puddle of drool forming in the corner of his mouth? “Is that milk bread?” he questioned, suddenly extremely interested in your snack. You could have sworn he leaned closer to the monitor.  
You nodded, feeling self-conscious as you continued with your snack. “I made it yesterday.”  
“Milk bread is my favorite!” he exclaimed, his voice raising several octaves as his excitement overflowed.   
“I’d share if we weren’t quarantined,” you offered before you could stop yourself. Your eyes widened and you sat back in your chair, surprised by the words that came out of your own mouth.  
“That’s no fair,” Oikawa pouted, crossing his arms childishly and jutting his lower lip at you. “You’re cute _and_ you can bake?”  
Ah, there was that warmth on your cheeks again. Dammit. “I-I guess. I don’t know about the ‘cute’ part.”  
The brunet was quiet for a moment, and you chewed your lip in concern that you’d just turned him off with your insecurities. Instead, his pout morphed into a smirk that twisted your insides in a not unpleasant manner.   
“Well, I think you’re really cute,” he insisted. “Have you seen your photos? Seriously?”  
Gay butterflies fluttered rapidly in your chest, and you stuffed another piece of milk bread into your mouth – partly to stifle any stupid reply that would have tumbled out, and partly because the way he pouted in regards to your unattainable snack was absolutely adorable.   
“You’re one to talk,” you murmured around a mouthful of bread.   
His chocolate eyes sparkled at the compliment, and his smirk widened to a genuine smile. He couldn’t truly be surprised – had he not seen himself? He had to know how attractive he was.  
“You know, girls tell me that all the time,” he replied nonchalantly, complete with a soft shrug. “But it means a lot more coming from you.”  
Ah, fuck. This guy was going to be the death of you.   
“Why’s that?” you questioned, sitting up straighter and waiting hesitantly for his comeback.  
He paused again. “I like you more than them,” was all he said.   
Not quite what you had in mind, but he said he liked you. That was good, wasn’t it? It wasn’t mind-blowing, but based on what you’d heard about this guy from your school’s volleyball club, it was more of a compliment than he usually expressed to those outside of his fan club.  
“What are you thinking about?” he wondered aloud, tilting his head adorably to catch your attention. It worked, because of course it did. You really needed to get a handle on your attraction to this boy.  
“Just…” you paused, wondering how open and honest you should be with the cute volleyball player you barely knew. “Just wondering why you’re suddenly so interested in me, I guess. You’re this popular star athlete – I’m a nobody.”  
He frowned quickly before relaxing his features. Leaning forward and resting his chin in his hand, he replied, “What’s not to like?”


	3. Week Three

A/N: I don’t know if any of Oikawa’s fangirls have names, so for now they don’t. 

A few days later, calls and messages between you and the volleyball hottie had become a regular thing. His flirting hadn’t ceased at all during your conversations, and though it made your heart flutter and your brain tingle, you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t mean anything. You knew about his fan club and how he was a notorious flirt, especially if he got something out of it in return. The rational part of your brain told you that he didn’t mean anything when he complimented your hair or commented on a photo; he was just being nice, passing the time while he couldn’t leave his house. Once the quarantine ended and volleyball was back in session, he’d drop you like you’d never spoken before.  
But the emotional part of your brain hoped desperately that there was some truth to his words, even just a sliver. You’d had half a mind to ask one of his friends- you’d watched enough of his Instagram stories to be able to pinpoint who knew him the best- for a second opinion, but that seemed too clingy and annoying for you to ever follow through. You didn’t want to scare him away. Insincere flirting was nicer than zero contact.

It was early afternoon, a few hours after your call with Oikawa ended. He’d been his usual charming self, and it left you smiling dreamily while you scrolled your Instagram feed.  
A message notification popped up, and your heart leapt to your throat in the hopes that it was Oikawa. Clicking on your inbox, you frowned upon discovering that the message request was from an account you didn’t recognize. After clicking on it, curiosity whirling in your brain, dread began to pool in your abdomen upon reading its contents.

**future_mrs_oikawa**  
_I dont know who u think u are, but u need to leave oikawa alone. Hes not interested in u so back off._

Who the hell was this? Did Oikawa have a girlfriend? He’d never mentioned one… but you supposed that wasn’t particularly your business, was it?

**(y/username)**  
_Uh… I don’t know who you are at all, but Oikawa and I are just friends. Acquaintances, really. We just talk on Instagram sometimes._

**future_mrs_oikawa**  
_ud be lucky to be his friend. Im the president of his fan club and we dont have any room for creepy fags like u._

Uhm, rude. You weren’t creepy. And who even used the word “fag” anymore?

**(y/username)**  
_I don’t know what your deal is but you need to settle down. Oikawa can talk to whoever he likes. Sorry that person isn’t you._

Her next reply was a string of poorly spelled expletives, threatening your life should you ever set foot in Oikawa’s presence in person. You promptly blocked the account, sighing softly as you set your phone on your bedside table. You hadn’t meant to cause any trouble… though you weren’t sure the person harassing you had any closer of a relationship to Oikawa than you did. She’d called herself the president of his fan club, not his friend or his girlfriend. Still, it left an empty feeling in your gut, and you weren’t very fond of it.

Later that evening, your phone chimed again, and like the lovesick puppy you were, you prayed for it to be Oikawa. Instead, it was another username you didn’t recognize. Biting your lip in fear that it would be a repeat of your last spontaneous conversation, you opened the message request.

**Iwahaji**  
_Is this the guy oikawas been calling every other day?_

You felt a blush settling across your face. Was this a friend of the volleyball hottie? Had he told his friends or teammates about you?

**(y/username)**  
_Uh yeah… Who is this?_

**Iwahaji**  
_My name is iwaizumi. Im oikawa’s friend and teammate._

**(y/username)**  
_Nice to meet you…?_

**Iwahaji**  
,em>Hes been talking about you a lot.

**(y/username)**  
_He has??_

**Iwahaji**  
_Yeah. You seem to be important. I just wanted to warn you._

That old feeling of dread and emptiness returned, twisting your insides hard enough to make you want to curl in on yourself.

**(y/username)**  
_Warn me?_

**Iwahaji**  
_Oikawa… hes a good guy deep down but hes a flirt. A womanizer. I know that doesnt apply to you but he told me hes been flirting and I cant tell how serious he about it._

**(y/username)**  
_So I’m just one of the many?_

**Iwahaji**  
_I… didnt quite mean it like that, but kind of. He usually only tells me about the people hes talking to or flirting with when he is genuinely interested, so thats a good sign if youre interested in him._  
_But youre the first guy hes been interested in in a long time, so theres that._

Well… that had to be a good sign, right?

**(y/username)**  
_Well… thanks, I think? Look I know I don’t know him very well, I mean we’ve never even met in person that I can recall. But I do like him, and I very much like flirting with him. So I appreciate your warning, though I am scared that he’s just passing time talking to me._

**Iwahaji**  
_At first I didnt listen to him when he talked about you cuz I thought exactly that. But when hes not serious he moves on pretty quickly. Hes been talking about “cute Instagram guy” for weeks now._

He’d been talking about you… for weeks? To his best friend? You’d only been calling and messaging for about three, and on a regular basis for even less time.

 **(y/username)**  
_That’s… as long as we’ve been talking. Does he really talk about me that much?_

__

**Iwahaji**  
_Yeah. Every day. Its annoying._

__

**(y/username)**  
_Oh… sorry?_

__

**Iwahaji**  
_I just wanted you to know. Hes a good flirt so people always think hes serious about his intentions and with you he might be. But I thought you deserved a warning in case he isnt._

__

With a sigh, you prepared yourself to make the request you’d been talking yourself out of making. His friend had approached you first, reached out to you on his own… Your request wasn’t so unprecedented now, was it?

__

**(y/username)**  
_Hey… uh… since you’re his friend… do you think you could ask him about me? Find out how serious he actually is?_

__

There was a pause between replies, and you worried that you’d offended the guy somehow.

__

**Iwahaji**  
_Ill see what I can do. he gets flustered pretty easily and he closes up when he really doesnt want to talk about something._

__

**(y/username)**  
_Is that good or bad?_

__

**Iwahaji**  
_I guess well find out._

__

Success!

__

**(y/username)**  
_Thank you._

__

He didn’t reply after that, so you set your phone back down and flopped backwards onto your bed. Staring up at your ceiling, you couldn’t help the grin that stretched across your face. You didn’t get confirmation that Oikawa wanted a relationship with you, but you had been informed that he talked about you. A lot. To his best friend.  
That had to mean something, right?

__


	4. Week Four

“If you like this guy so much, why don’t you just ask him out?”  
Being Toru Oikawa’s best friend was an exhausting job for one Hajime Iwaizumi. For weeks now, he’d been the primary recipient of Oikawa’s lovesick droning. He could probably pick your face out of a crowd based solely on the brunet’s description of your luscious (h/c) hair and dazzling (e/c) eyes.   
Oikawa, true to his brand, wailed in response. “I can’t do that, Iwa. It’s not like I can take him on a date, and he goes to Karasuno!”  
“Karasuno?” Kindaichi chirped, his attention piqued as he watched the exchange between his two teammates.  
“What does that matter?” Iwaizumi questioned, lifting an irritated brow. “It’s not like he’s in the volleyball club. He just goes to the games.”  
“The guy you like goes to Karasuno?” Kindaichi repeated while Oikawa pouted childishly.  
“I have an idea,” Iwaizumi stated, and the brunet captain lifted his head, giving his best friend his full attention. “How about we just add him to the call?”  
Oikawa’s cheeks burned as his eyes widened. “We can’t do that, Iwa!”  
“Why not?” Kindaichi questioned.   
“Because- because-!”  
“Because you don’t want him to know how much of a lovesick brat you sound like when you talk about him?” Iwaizumi supplied, earning a glare from the captain’s chocolate orbs.  
“I think we should add him,” the middle blocker smirked, partly interested in unofficially meeting you and primarily looking forward to the idea of turning Oikawa into a blushing bride.   
“Shittykawa, if you don’t add (y/n) to the call, I will,” Iwaizumi threatened. Oikawa crossed his arms over his chest, a pout set firmly on his lips.  
“Okay,” the vice-captain sighed. “But he’d appreciate it a lot more coming from you. You haven’t called him today, have you?”  
“When would he have had time?” Kindaichi wondered aloud.   
“My point exactly.”  
“Fine!” Oikawa whined. He clicked a few icons on his screen while gnawing on his lower lip, waiting impatiently for you to see the notification.

_Kittykawa is video calling you._

Your heart leapt into your throat as your laptop chimed, drawing your attention from the book you’d been reading. Biting back a grin, you accepted the call, though your eyes widened upon discovering that Oikawa wasn’t the only one on the other side. The screen split into four sections, including yours. One displayed Oikawa, and the other two you didn’t recognize.  
“Hey, (y/n),” the brunet greeted, offering you a toothy grin.  
“Hey…” you murmured slowly. “Uh, what’s going on?”  
“I’m Iwaizumi,” one of the unfamiliar faces stated, his expression neutral and slightly bored. “I messaged you a few days ago.”  
“Oh, right,” you nodded in recollection.  
“I’m Kindaichi,” the other boy introduced. “I’m on their volleyball team.”  
“Okay,” you nodded again. “What’s with the group call?”  
“They want to humiliate me,” Oikawa pouted.  
“I told Whinykawa that if he didn’t shut up about how cute you were, I was going to add you to the call so you could listen to it instead,” Iwaizumi explained, and you felt your cheeks flushing at the realization that the boy you were crushing on had been talking about you so much.   
“I can’t say he was wrong,” Kindaichi commented. “You are pretty cute. In the friendly way, of course.”  
“T-thanks,” you stuttered out, dropping your gaze to your lap to avoid further embarrassment.  
“We wanted to meet you,” Iwaizumi added. “Feels like I already know you with everything Puppykawa has told us.”  
“Iwa!” Oikawa whined, jutting out his lower lip in the fullest pout you’d ever seen – fuck, it was cute. “You can’t tell him that!”  
“What has he said?” you inquired, a grin threatening to split your lips.  
“Nothing!” Oikawa insisted, waving his hands at the camera in a futile attempt to cease his best friend’s words.  
“Mostly how cute you are,” Kindaichi supplied innocently.   
“The texture of your hair, the exact shade of your eyes,” Iwaizumi followed, his expression adjusting from endlessly bored to slightly amused.  
“Guys!” Oikawa wailed, hiding his face in his hands. You could only grin in response.  
“What else?”  
“Didn’t he say something about baking?” Kindaichi recalled thoughtfully.  
Iwaizumi nodded. “Yeah, Shittykawa wouldn’t stop talking about wanting (y/n)’s milk bread for a week. I was starting to think it was a euphemism.”  
Another blush danced across your cheeks at the implication, and you nibbled absent-mindedly on your fingernail.  
“Also that,” Iwaizumi nodded. “How did he word it, Kindaichi?”  
The spiky-haired boy hummed in response, rubbing his chin in thought. “’The way he bites his fingers is so kawaii it makes me want to kiss him’.”  
The words sounded decidedly awkward coming from Kindaichi’s mouth, completely somber and lacking Oikawa’s squealing. Still, knowing you heard them had the brunet attempting to slyly sneak out of camera view, but Iwaizumi caught him in the act before he could successfully escape.  
“Get back here, Loserkawa!” he growled, and Oikawa jumped before slinking obediently back to his chair.   
“We’ve been telling him to just ask you out already,” Iwaizumi concluded.  
Kindaichi nodded in agreement. “As annoying as he is when he fixates on something, we can tell he really likes you, and if you’ve put up with him for this long, you must like him, too.”  
“Uh, yeah, I do,” you admitted.   
“So you want to date him?” Iwaizumi clarified, narrowed eyes flicking to Oikawa’s section of the screen in a silent _I told you so._  
“Well, yeah,” you nodded, ducking your head shyly. “But I mean, we’ve never met in person, and this whole quarantine deal kind of prohibits proper dates, and I wasn’t sure if he was actually interested in me or just… killing time.”  
“Ha!” Oikawa shouted triumphantly. “See? He totally gets me! Asking him out would be pointless because of the quarantine!”  
“Stupidkawa,” Iwaizumi hissed, bringing a hand up to his forehead. “Did you miss everything else that (y/n) said?”  
The captain was quiet for a moment, and you worried that you’d spilled too much. Was he backing out?  
“I think we should go,” Kindaichi stated.  
Iwaizumi nodded. “Don’t fuck this up, dumbass,” he instructed Oikawa before the two exited the video call.  
“Well, they seem nice,” you commented. “Iwaizumi likes to insult you, though.”  
“Iwa’s always been that way,” Oikawa shrugged, and you wondered how nonchalant he truly felt about it.  
“I’m sorry if I said too much,” you couldn’t help but apologize. “Your friends caught me off guard and I didn’t want to lie to anyone.”  
He was quiet for a moment, pondering the turn of events. “So you like me, huh?”  
You nodded. “From the sounds of it, you like me just as much.”  
He grinned, leaning forward. “Even though we’ve never really met?”  
“I’d be willing to overlook that,” you replied. “But… there’s the quarantine. Who knows how long it will be before we _can_ meet.”  
“I bet it would be worth the wait,” he insisted. “To spend months bragging about my adorably hot boyfriend and then wrap him in my arms when we finally go on a date?”  
You exhaled nervously, a soft chuckle falling from your lips. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”  
“So, (y/n),” he purred, resting his elbow atop his table and propping his chin up with the palm of his hand. “Will you be my boyfriend?”  
Your heart hammered in your chest, and your head nodded of its own accord. “Of course I will.”  
The resulting cheer from Oikawa’s side of the call was shrill enough to burst eardrums.


End file.
